


Fall Into Me

by witchpointe



Series: North Star [2]
Category: VIXX
Genre: F/M, Trans Female Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:26:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25214626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/witchpointe/pseuds/witchpointe
Summary: Trembling, she lifts her fingertips to his cheek. She asks the question before she can stop herself, an insecurity dislodged from the darkest part of her mind. "Why me?"His hips recede and surge forward again, making her shout and grasp his neck. "Every day I love you more than the last." Again he pulls back, launching forward. "I will continue to fall in love with you," another thrust, "over and over again," another, faster, harder, "until the day I die."
Relationships: Cha Hakyeon | N/Han Sanghyuk | Hyuk
Series: North Star [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1924045
Comments: 10
Kudos: 31





	Fall Into Me

**Author's Note:**

> if you're interested in reading the first part of jiwoo's transition from sanghyuk to jiwoo, you can do so [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23872942). 
> 
> i would like to preface this second portion of the fic by explaining that in my story, jiwoo has now gone through transitioning. sanghyuk is privileged and rich enough to be able to transition fully if he were transgender. to be specific i imagine jiwoo taking estrogen, and undergoing facial feminization and bottom surgery, but being satisfied enough in her natural estrogen chest growth that she doesn't have top surgery. it's generally not anyone's business what procedures trans people have had done, but well, this part is specifically about her recovering from these transitions and then using her new body with her partner and being very happy with the results, so it is relevant.
> 
> but i want to be clear: there isn't a "right" way to be transgender. whether someone transitions fully, partially, or not at all - whether or not they pass as their gender - we are all completely valid and we should be respected fully in our identity, and unless a trans person offers the personal details of their transition to you, you shouldn't be asking them about it. also, you don't need dysphoria to be trans. :)
> 
> that being said, thank you for even considering to read a story about a trans woman finding her happiness. ❤️

Jiwoo spends a year transitioning.

It is both the best and worst year of her life.

Her surgeries go smoothly, and of that she had little doubt. She has the money to afford only the best, and she would spare no expense on the most crucial, the most necessary, change of her life.

The hard part is the after care. The hard part is doing it  _ without Hakyeon _ . They decide--well, she decides and he complies, but not without tears--that it is better for them if they take a break.

Really, she wants to give both herself and her lover the time and space to see things clearly. Are they meant to be, or did time throw them together in a time and place where they needed each other, but held on long after that time and place had passed? Truly, she doesn't trust  _ Hakyeon _ to see things clearly, to be able to decide for himself whether he's okay with this change, not while he is so close and blinded by her needy presence.

It's two months after she's completely healed, two months after the overwhelming realization that she is comfortable in her own body for the first time in her life, that they meet again. She arrives at his apartment with a suitcase to stay for two weeks. A trial, an experiment, to see if they could rekindle what they once had, or if time had made strangers of them both.

They had, of course, texted updates and pictures occasionally throughout the year. They would always be friends, always be in each other's lives. Of this she had no doubt. But she wants more, so much more. 

Their reunion is awkward with small talk. Hakyeon serves her tea at his dining room table, next to a large window that she spends most of the time staring out of. He struggles to keep the conversation going and to keep it light. In his defense, she doesn't help very much. She thought it would be so much different. That they would rush into each other's arms and pick up right where they had left off. She was so naive.

They pick up a friendly routine again, and after a few days she  _ does _ feel more at home. In certain ways she feels back at the dorm again, greeted by his smile first thing in the morning, listening to books as he reads them to her, laughing about their friends. She tells him about the surgeries, the recovery, her feelings. She cries in his arms. It's friendly, but it's not  _ intimate _ . It isn't what she wants. And she's angry about it.

They agree to be a couple again, and she moves into his place. But it all feels so routine, so constructed, like he's doing this because he has to. Because he feels obligated. He loves her, she knows this. But is he  _ in love _ with her?

She thinks she can hide her anger, her fear, until he proves her wrong. But  _ she _ is wrong. It finds its way out, as it usually does, in the most innocuous of places, at the most inconvenient of times.

They're in the kitchen, preparing food to go on a picnic. His idea. It's very romantic, very sweet. She's excited. Will he finally kiss her again? Finally tell her how much he missed her? She can't wait to see the sun set with him in the park. She is happy.

Until she hears that Taekwoon will be joining them.

The knife she's holding to cut strawberries clatters against the counter, and she turns to face him. He asks her if she's alright. Did she cut herself? Is she bleeding? Does she need the first aid kit? Why is she looking at him like that?

She plunges into a passive-aggressive outburst. Without her brain's consent, really, but she's always exploded under too much pressure. 

She asks him if it bothers him, to have change his entire identity for her. It doesn't bother her, she tells him, if he still wants to identify as gay. She would understand, she forces herself to say, hiding her trembling hands behind her back, if he needed to find a man to satisfy himself. She wouldn't keep him from that; it wouldn't make her love him any less.

Hakyeon looks stricken. Speechless, he stands before her with his fingers splayed over his chest, leaning his other hand onto the kitchen counter as if the force of her offer had struck him off balance.

"You think I could--" he begins, then stops to dab the wetness from his eyes with his middle fingers. He swallows hard, then begins again. "I love you so completely my heart has no room for someone else."

"I don't mean dating," she says, feeling awkward to have to explain herself. "You're  _ gay _ , you signed on to fuck a  _ man _ . If you need to go fuck men--I don't know, you have my permission."

It sounds crude, but she doesn't know what else to say.

"Jiwoo," Hakyeon says, pulling her to him by her hips, fitting there comfortably in a way they never had before they were so curved. "It isn't like that."

Jiwoo refuses to look at him, leaving his nose against her cheek. "I don't turn you on anymore." 

" _ No _ ." Hakyeon gives her whole body a gentle shake. "I love seeing your body aligned with your soul. Seeing you happier than you've ever been. That turns me on."

"Then what's your problem?" She faces him, eyes sharp and accusing. 

He sighs, and his body deflates with it. "I'm just afraid. Everything about you is different, you've grown and changed so much. You have different mentors now. A different community. One that I can't ever hope to understand. You fell in love with me barely out of your teens, and now your whole world is new and wonderful and I'm just some old man from a different life that won't let you go."

"That's stupid!" Jiwoo slams her arms down, forcing his hands to disconnect from her and hit the counter. "I'm not different! This isn't a different life! I've been dreaming of you fucking me in this body for years, and now that I have it you won't touch me!"

She huffs so hard she feels like she might lose her balance.

"Oh." He rests his fingers on her stomach, against her soft yellow cardigan. "You've been thinking of this?" 

God, he can be so fucking self-absorbed. "Of course I have." 

"What did you think about?"

Wickedly, she smiles with spark of an idea.

She tugs her hair out of its ponytail, running the smooth strands through her hands until it falls in a haphazard part. It isn't as long as she'd like it yet, but, well. 

"Your hands holding my hair out of my face while I suck you off." 

Hakyeon's eyes widen.

"Imagine it Yeonnie, pulling two fistfuls of so much hair while I smear my pretty pink lipstick on the base of your cock." 

" _ God _ , Jiwoo." 

"Don't you want to see what it looks like when I choke on your cock and my mascara runs?" 

He whispers her name again, eyes closed. He looks like he's in pain.

"My thighs are bigger now, softer. They bruise easier." She takes his hand and runs it up her thigh, under her skirt. She doesn't force it, but Hakyeon continues anyway, cupping her against the lace of her underwear. She bites back the smallest whine, but she thinks Hakyeon must hear it, because he curls his fingers harder against her.

"I touch myself all the time thinking of you inside me." She slides his fingers forward until they're on her clit, and she pushes down lightly, schooling his hand in gentle circles.

"I'm so sensitive." Her hips rock into his touch. "I want to come over and over on your cock. I don't have to stop now. It feels different; I feel it with my whole body."

Hakyeon rests his head against hers, leaning his temple against her cheekbone. She's taller in these heels, a pair of cornsilk pumps that match most of the yellows in her wardrobe. She is surprised to find that she loves the height difference, has no desire to be shorter now that she can express her gender otherwise.

"Baby," he says softly. "Let me show you how much I still love you. I've missed you so much."

He takes her to his room, the only room Jiwoo hasn't dared to enter in their few months of tip toeing around each other. She could have picked his room out of a lineup--bare walls and earth tones, with attention drawn to a few carefully selected statement pieces: a top-heavy golden metal lamp on the bedside table, a crystal vase full of ferns and flanked by candles on a simple mahogany dresser. The bed is large and dressed in cream, sitting peacefully below the open window where sheer curtains sway with the movement of the fan.

Sitting on the end of the bed, he pulls her close by the legs. "Give me your foot," he says, patting the top of his thigh.

She lifts her foot to his leg, pressing down only with the ball of her foot and leaving the spike of the heel in the air. Hakyeon slides his fingers down her shin and pulls at the back of the shoe, slipping it off. Lying it on the ground, he covers her ankle with his hands.

"You still wear this." He pushes a finger between the anklet and her skin.

She chuckles and shrugs. "It has a history."

Pressing a kiss to the side of her knee, he turns to look up at her and rub his face against her leg, smiling. "You're so much more sentimental than you let on."

She rolls her eyes and shifts to present her other foot. He removes the second shoe and places it with its mate, and barely has time to straighten before Jiwoo plants her knees on either side of his thighs, crawling into his lap.

He catches her by the waist as she grips his shoulders and settles in, wiggling her hips as she gets comfortable. She kisses him, gently pressing their lips together and licking at his top lip, waiting to see what he'll do.

Taking her face in both hands, he kisses back the way he always has: dominant, leisurely, feeding her anticipation and deep enough to make her shiver.

He breaks the kiss but doesn't pull away, keeps their noses touching and his eyes closed while his hands stroke her jaw, her chin, across her throat; up around her forehead and back down.

"You're softer," he says. "I knew something was different. I couldn't place it, but your face…" He leans back and scans her, runs a finger across her eyebrow.

"Does it bother you?" she asks, licking her already wet lips. She isn't afraid of the answer, she simply wants to know, wants to stop feeling so far away from him.

"No," he says, kissing the tip of her nose. "Just another part of you to re-learn."

Hakyeon bites at the curve of her jaw where it meets her ear, and she winces and giggles.

"Same reaction though." Hakyeon smiles against her skin, drags his lips down to her neck. She makes a sound of appreciation, grabbing the back of his neck, fuzzy where the edges haven't been trimmed.

He nibbles around her throat, so gentle in precisely the way she doesn't want. She pulls on his neck, tries to scoot closer, anything to prompt him to quit teasing.

"Stop," he mumbles, and she relents, going slack in his arms. His hands slide up the back of her sweater until he finds the neckline of her dress, pressing his fingertips against her skin as he kisses her neck.

He tugs at her cardigan to expose her shoulder and licks slowly across her collar bone. He hums, sounding like he just took a bite of food, then bites hard at the space between her collar bones, surprising her into an undignified squawk.

"Hey." She shoves him backward.

Biting against his smirk, he undoes the single button of the cardigan against her chest and slides it off her frame. They both look down at her chest, at her  _ new _ chest, nicely framed and held in place by her sundress, a flimsy white thing with sunflower print.

Hesitation clouds his face. She takes his hand and kisses the top, then carefully places it so that it's cupping a breast, and takes her hand away. He squeezes his fingers, then looks up.

"Does it feel better… than before?" 

She laughs. "I can't feel much over my clothes."

"Oh, right." Hakyeon looks away, messes with the tips of his fringe. 

She knows he's embarrassed, but it warms her heart. She lifts the dress up and over her head, excitement sparking in her chest. She's so proud of her body, so happy now that she fits inside it so well. She's been waiting for this for so long that she thought the reality might disappoint, but it was all remarkably worth it--the fear of surgery, the pain of aftercare, the loss and gain of so many things so that she could be her truest self, here in this moment, sharing her soul with her partner.

He runs his thumb over the curve of a breast, across the underwire, slides his fingers down her belly, stopping to circle the mole on her hip. Her underwear is baby blue lace, matching her bra, except that it's see-through, delicate swirls running over delicate skin.

"Jiwoo," he says, fingers lingering around her waist. "Tell me what to do."

She reaches to unhook her bra, letting it fall down her arms. "Do what feels natural," she says, "and I'll tell you if it's wrong."

In an unnecessary delicate grip he takes her bra and drops it to the ground. She purses her lips against a smile, at how charmingly awkward he seems. Her breasts look small in his hands as he palms them, and when he brushes his fingers over her nipple then teases the tip she surprises them both with a squeak, covering his hand with hers.

"Too much?" he asks.

"No, it just--it feels so much  _ better _ when you do it."

With her hand on his he reaches for it again, twisting it between his fingers. It feels faint, but stirs her hunger, and whining, she closes her eyes and arches so her chest rises.

"Harder," she says, pulling him down by his shirt. "Bite me."

He doesn't; instead he leans down to flicker his tongue across her nipple and watch her reaction. She grumbles at the teasing, getting used to it just as he switches sides and sucks roughly at the other. Gasping, she jerks up on her knees. Down her stomach, across her hips, his hands drift to her ass, gripping it in both hands as he bites into her harshly, teeth pulling at her skin.

She says his name, fingernails clawing into his scalp, caught between wanting to pull him closer and push him away. He moans at the sting, lifting his hips while turning them both. She's tossed back onto his pillows, little crocheted throws and overstuffed down puffs.

She thinks of so many times before, of dreaming she was on her back, legs spread in an open gesture of invitation and submission. She remembers the fear of what her subconscious presented, the sheer terror at the joy it made her feel. How she savors the reality of him between her thighs, her legs lifted onto his shoulders.

She feels his face press against the thin lace between her legs. He inhales deeply, breathing out hot air against her.

"You smell so good," he groans. 

Letting out a breath she didn't know she was holding, she obediently lifts her hips as he slides off her underwear. Hands wrapped around her thighs, he holds her open and makes eye contact with hesitation heavy in his eyes.

She reaches down for his face. "You don't have to if you don't want--"

The tip of his tongue meets her lips and glides upward in a slow curve.

"-- _ to _ ."

It's a moan and a curse all at once, an involuntary response to finally, finally making love as she was meant to. 

"No," he says against her, "I'm going to make you come."

When he lifts her thighs back onto his shoulders, smooth skin pushing against his soft cotton shirt, she has the sudden realization that he is still fully clothed and that she is emphatically naked, exposed to him in body and heart, and he could break her so easily: recoil from her new form and decide that he couldn't, after all, ever be with a woman.

But he has always been tender with her heart, so careful in act and speech, and now is no different as he uses his thumbs to spread her open and push the flat of his tongue against her clit.

"Oh,  _ god _ ." Her fingernails grip the mattress as she digs her heels into his back.

He eats her with all the eagerness he used to suck her off, mouth exploring every rise and fall of her skin, designing loops and swirls with his tongue. He draws her lips into his mouth, tugs gently, grazes the fragile skin with the sharp edges of his teeth.

He reads her body, listens to her gasps and moans, feels the trembling of her legs, uses her reception to guide him in the direction she wants him most. 

Drawing back to moan, he pants against her slick skin and she shivers, electricity running up her spine. She begs him not to stop, but like the devil he is he only huffs against her and blows faintly against her clit.

She seizes him by the hair, attempts to thrust back into his face but he holds her down, bites kisses into the bulk of her thighs between his splayed fingers. Tears gather among her lashes, so frustrated, so turned on, so deprived of the wet heat of his tongue.

With a smirk he slips two fingers into his mouth, swirls them around his tongue, leaving a string of spit connected to them when he pulls back out again. He brings his fingers against her and prods at the entrance.

"Is it okay?" he asks. 

"Please," she whines, clenching her eyes shut as a tear rolls into her hairline.

He slides his fingers inside her, first one and then both, fucks her entirely too slow and angled awkwardly. She reaches down, and this time he allows her to take his forearm, to angle his fingers down and move them faster. She sets her own pace, clenching his arm, thrusting up to meet his fingers as she pulls them deeper.

With his other hand he pulls her open again and sucks roughly at her clit, and with the rise and fall of his tongue and the twist of his fingers, she has no hope of controlling herself. Her legs convulse against his ears, shaking all the way down his back, and her cries are from deep within her chest.

She chants curses as she climbs higher, higher, almost there,  _ almost _ \--she screams for him not to stop, so desperate for release she slams into his face with all the force she can manage.

Her orgasm sweeps through her spine and she goes taut, muscles locking and wrenching Hakyeon's head back by his hair. She forgets to breathe, drowns in the feeling like her head is under water. Then she loses control, going slack in his arms. A satisfied sigh escapes her lungs and though she fiercely wants to see his face, she doesn't have it in her to open her eyes.

He slinks up her body; she feels the graze of his clothes against her overheated skin. He hums in content near her face and it's almost a low growl. He nips at her chin once, and then harder when she doesn't respond, pushing his hips against her own.

Surprise forces her eyes open, and she finds his eyes close to hers, immense with desire and wild, jumping around her face like he can't focus.

"You're…"

Words are stripped from her mind as he grinds up again, making a frantic, helpless sort of sound.

"I'm so hard," he says, whimpering against her cheek.

Sparks shoot through her belly, just to the right of where Hakyeon grinds his cock against her. He's still in his jeans and she knows it must hurt, remembers the pain of skinny-jeans clad erections. But all she can think about is Hakyeon being hard for her,  _ her _ as she is now, and simply by eating her out. She was euphoric at him conceding to do it, but to know that it turns him on--fuck, that's all she needs to be ready for him.

Her hands rake at his hips, clumsy as she tries to aim for his button, his zipper, but he's shoving himself against her too fast.

"Hakyeon," she says, pushing at his waistband. "Take them off."

He pushes back onto his knees and strips his shirt while she undoes his jeans. He smells the same as she remembers, like berries and firewood over the explicit scent of her own wetness. He reaches for her neck, uses it to pull her closer and lick her mouth open. The taste of herself is a shock--not entirely pleasant, but from the mouth of her lover it's filthy and she can't get enough; she licks his lips and sucks on his tongue as he fumbles with his jeans and the elastic band of his boxer briefs.

She's never seen him this passionate, not even the first time they fucked, hard and desperate against stark white hotel sheets after months of flirting and increasingly bolder touches. Together they force off the rest of his clothing, and then he lies her back down, one hand next to her shoulder and the other on his cock. He pushes the tip between her lips, glides it up to her clit and back down. Hair hangs in his face as he looks down to watch the path of his cock.

"Wait," she says, pressing a hand to his chest, hating that she has to interrupt. "I'm sorry I--I can't really get wet enough to fuck, I need lube."

"Darling," he says, rough with lust but sweet with intent. "Don't apologize for that."

He leaves the room with a lingering look that sears through her core, and returns with a tube that looks barely half full. Thoughts of Hakyeon sleeping with others swarm her mind, but she pushes them back, forcing herself to focus instead on his body, his narrow hips, barely bigger than his waist, his lanky legs climbing back onto the bed, his smooth, thick hands unscrewing the cap.

He stops before squeezing the tube into his hand. "Do you… need to be stretched?"

"No," she says, softly smiling. She is both pleased with this and somber, remembers the slow, attentive way he would open her up, so careful to never make her hurt or bleed.

He lowers his hands slightly. "Oh."

Cupping her hand around the spout, she nods toward the tube to urge him on. He squeezes it into her hand and watches in silence as she coats her fingers. She hears the tube drop somewhere on the floor.

He lies her back again, and this time they're both more collected. She slicks his cock in an unhurried manner, an action so practiced that she instantly feels more at ease. His eyelids grow heavy, his blinks lasting longer as he fucks into her hand.

She grips harder and he groans, stretching his neck back and leaving his mouth open.

She leans up to bite his bottom lip and pull him down by the crown of his head. He moans against her lip, going down easily, sounding helpless.

"Please, I've been waiting so long," she breathes into his mouth, an urgent ache running through her. "I need you to fuck me."

His face presses into her throat as he shuffles, taking a moment to align himself properly. She feels him at her entrance and anticipation sends bristling down her thighs as she wraps them around his waist.

He licks at her throat messily, uncoordinated. "Baby, tell me how you want it."

"Deep," she says, "and slow."

Although he didn't prefer it, Hakyeon topped the first time they fucked--she had been a virgin in every sense of the word, embarrassed and shy, but needing him intensely. Everything about the way he pushes into her now reminds her of that moment so many years ago. So slow, so careful, trembling on his elbows above her, opening her up in more ways than one. Her lips part in voiceless appreciation to finally have him again; he, on the other hand, sinks his teeth into her shoulder and groans, a low and husky release of breath.

He lowers onto her once he's bottomed out, like the action had taken everything in him. His hands grips her hair close to her ear in a way that strikes her as possessive. Her nails dig into his lower back. 

"How does it feel?" he asks.

"It's incredible," she says, wiggling her hips, testing the waters. It's a wonderful and validating feeling, but in truth it hurts a little, much like it did before, and she's glad he's giving her a moment to rest. Overcome with his indulgence, she forces out, "I love you."

"I love everything about you." He kisses the side of her neck, whispering his devotion. "Your smile." A kiss to her lips. "Your loyalty." One to her cheek. "Your courage." The last, to her forehead.

Trembling, she lifts her fingertips to his cheek. She asks the question before she can stop herself, an insecurity dislodged from the darkest part of her mind. "Why me?"

His hips recede and surge forward again, making her shout and grasp his neck. "Every day I love you more than the last." Again he pulls back, launching forward. "I will continue to fall in love with you," another thrust, "over and over again," another, faster, harder, "until the day I die."

She makes a strange sound, somewhere between a wail and a choking intake of breath. She remembers now; he smothers her with his love sometimes, but at others she needs his boundless passion to anchor her to reality, to truly make her believe that someone would ever be this patient, this faithful, this perfect. 

Their lips meet, not so much a kiss as a collision, and Hakyeon fucks her properly, deeply, a bruising grip on her ass and waist. The way he fucks, the way he has  _ always  _ fucked, like it's the last time they'll ever touch, like they're running out of time, leaves her breathless.

This trial, this experiment, was the confirmation she needed. With every cry of her name, every crash of their hips, he proves that their love is infinite, eclipsing time and gender. She is his and he is hers, and nothing else matters, not when they are together.

She comes for the second time, a surprise to both of them, arching against him and shouting a curse toward the ceiling. Panting, she clings to him as her orgasm drives him faster, and she knows she'll be sore in the morning but she doesn't care, it doesn't matter. Nothing matters but him.

When he comes, it's with his head thrown back and his eyes closed, bangs sweaty and sticking to his forehead. She'll never get tired of that expression, the way his Adam's apple twitches, the way he looks exhausted, vacant, the way he yields everything he has, everything he is, into her.

The sun is setting as they catch their breath, Jiwoo massaging designs into his scalp as his head lies against her chest. Surely he can hear her heart beat against his ear. She can't feel his, but she feels safe in knowing that it beats for her alone.

"I missed you so much," he says at last, turning to rest his chin on her sternum and look at her sleepily.

She smiles, radiating affection and comfort. "I missed you too."

They fall asleep together, legs entangled, hands entwined. 

**Author's Note:**

>  _I cover myself with you again and again  
>  It’s all over my body  
> You are over my body, complete dizziness  
> You and I won’t be ruined  
> Come and fall into me  
> I will never hurt you  
> So hold my hand_  
> VIXX, Scentist
> 
> hakyeon selflessly pleasures his partners follow me on [twitter](http://twitter.com/vampiresanghyuk) if u agree


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